


Scared

by feral_albertan_female



Series: Feral and Forever [7]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Sabretooth - Fandom, Victor Creed - Fandom, X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate History, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canada, Explicit Language, F/M, Feral and Forever, Historical Accuracy, Historical References, Inspired by Real Events, Mates, Mating Bond, Not Canon Compliant, Series, World War I, ongoing series, references to violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-05
Updated: 2019-12-05
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:28:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21686794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/feral_albertan_female/pseuds/feral_albertan_female
Summary: Victor Creed and Evra Kitney are one day away from heading off to fight in WW1. This is their last night together before boarding a ship changes everything.
Relationships: Sabretooth/OFC, Victor Creed/Evra Kitney, Victor Creed/OFC
Series: Feral and Forever [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1029591
Comments: 7
Kudos: 9





	Scared

I can make you scared, if you want me to

I'm not prepared, but if I have to

\- _Scared_ by The Tragically Hip

“Scared?”

Victor Creed sat down beside the woman he’d been looking for and handed her a cigarette. Evra Kitney accepted it, leaning forward as her mate offered her a lit match. It flared bright orange against the night, a brief spark of light against the dark.

“I ain’t scared of nothing,” she replied, the grey smoke turning white due to winter’s chill. “Not even you.”

The playful smile she gave him made his heart skip a small beat. To cover it, he snatched the cigarette from her mouth and took a drag, blowing it out as he watched the nets of the trawlers graze the surface of the harbour’s waters. It was to keep pieces of debris from the December 6th explosion from washing up onto the ruins of the docks.

The bodies had finally stopped getting caught in the nets, thank fuck. The first few passes the trawlers had taken, that was all that had gotten caught in the thick ropes, bloated and decomposed corpses and limbs hanging free for all to see as the fishermen towed them to shore. Those who weren’t caught had drifted out to sea by now.

Now it was mostly detritus; loose wood from destroyed ship decks, barrels emptied of their contents, anything a ship carried that wouldn’t sink to the bottom of the harbour or hadn’t been fortunate enough to get caught in the tides and ferried into the ocean.

He and Evra were going to be sailing upon the very ocean tomorrow, both headed off to England for some basic training before being punted off to France to fight in the war. He was personally looking forward to getting back into the thick of things—the blood, the heat, the violence—and settling one hell of a score with an ungrateful bastard by the name of Jimmy Howlett.

“You should be scared of me,” he growled, handing her back the cigarette.

Evra shrugged. “Why? What could you do to me that you haven’t already done?”

The words would have stung a normal man, but Victor Creed wasn’t a normal man. Then again, most men weren’t feral alpha males who enjoyed killing and had a penchant for savagery. Most men wouldn’t have bothered to threaten or kill his mate’s potential partners simply because they were threats. Most men wouldn’t show their women to hunt and slaughter prey. Most men wouldn’t slash or claw their women practically to death because he knew she could take it and be all the better for it.

Victor had done all of these things, and gladly. He would never admit it, but it thrilled him that Evra showed no fear of him, of all the horrible and terrible things he did, instead choosing to join in or waiting for him to come back to her, no judgement or horror in her eyes at his actions.

With a snarl, he rolled on top of her, pinning her wrists on either side of her head. “’Cause I’m bigger n’ you,” he whispered gruffly in her ear, “an’ my teeth are bigger n’ yours.”

“All the better to eat me with?” she murmured breathlessly.

He pulled his head back and winked at her. “You know it, kid.”

Laughing, Evra shoved him off and he growled again, reaching for her in order to pull her back against him. She smacked his arm away and sat up, pitching away the used-up cigarette. “What’s it like over there, in the war?"

He grunted. “You’ll see soon enough.”

She huffed at his non-answer, then reached for the inside pocket of her coat. Withdrawing a small something, she tossed it onto his chest. He picked it up and examined the brown paper wrapped rectangle before sitting up. “Th’ fuck is this?”

“It’s a gift, dummy,” Evra said lightly. “Supposta open it.”

He turned the thing around in his hand a few times. Sure, it was Christmas Day and all, but they had agreed not to get each other anything.

The only one who had received any presents this morning was Heinrich, and he’d spent most of the day camped under the measly tree Evra had managed to scrounge from somewhere, mouth smeared with chocolate, demanding that his ‘Evvie’ sit down next to him and read endlessly from one of three storybooks he’d gotten. Victor had to threaten to crush the kid’s wooden toy train in order to get some time with his mate. Sure, Heinrich had cried like the snot-nosed baby he was, but Victor got what he wanted and that definitely more important than hearing Rudyard Kipling’s _Just So Stories_ for the tenth time.

The brown paper wrapped rectangle sat in his large hand, unsure if he really _did_ want to open it. _I don't expect this shit from you,_ Victor wanted to say, _because y_ _ou're my gift. I couldn't have gotten anything better, really_. But he wouldn't say that because he couldn't. Words like that meant he was soft for her ... and Victor was anything but soft.

He must've taken too long because a frustrated Evra snatched the rectangle away and ripped of the paper. “Here,” she said sharply enough to know that his reluctance to open it had hurt her. “It’s a fuckin’ cigarette case.”

She thrust it back at him, jamming it into his hands. It was silver, engraved with two straight lines that ran up the sides, connecting with the two lines that ran across the top and bottom. There were fancy little curlicues in all four corners and his name was etched in ornate letters in the centre.

“’S a li’l girly,” Evra mumbled, refusing to meet his eyes, “but it’ll stop your cigarettes from getting’ soggy. An’ the man said the case is strong enough to stop a bullet.”

Victor was oddly touched—no one had ever given him a present before. Unsure what to say, he opened the case to find it filled with fresh cigarettes, all neatly tucked upright in rows on both sides. "Bullshit," he replied, looking up at her. "Ain’t no way this tiny thing can stop a bullet.”

Her annoyed gaze met his.“You don’t like it, fine. I’ll jus’ find another guy named Victor t’ give it to. You ain’t the only one out there, I bet.”

She boosted herself up onto her knees and reached for the case, but he held it up over his head, far out of her reach. He slid his other arm around her waist, pulling her against him. A thrill ran through him as her body relaxed against his. She’d forgiven him.

“Better not find someone else,” he growled. “’Specially not another Victor.”

Evra’s indifferent shrug was at odds with her teasing smile. “Why not? Be easy t’ remember his name in bed.”

_Because you're my gift._

“I’ll kill any other man named Victor ‘fore you get a chance t’ touch him.”

Her smile became something more suggestive. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, boss.” Her kiss was fierce and needy and he couldn’t help but respond to it, wanting nothing more than to have her naked and underneath him. “Best get home. We ship out tomorrow.”

Victor couldn’t carry Evra back to the townhouse fast enough.

Tomorrow would be a whole new day.

~*~*~

**Author's Note:**

> 'Scared' - The Tragically Hip; written by The Tragically Hip. Album: Day for Night; released 1994 by the MCA label


End file.
